


Love Like a Spell

by Jess_B_Fossil



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Oneshot, Potion Maker - Freeform, Romance, Witches, boys falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_B_Fossil/pseuds/Jess_B_Fossil
Summary: Yuri might be a master of brewing love potions, but he's hopeless when it comes to his own romance. Fantasy AU.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 5
Kudos: 77





	Love Like a Spell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LucasApollo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucasApollo/gifts).



> I wrote this silly little fluff piece for my Good old bud Sharky. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHARKY.

Love spells were dumb, but they were his most popular seller, so Yuri persisted. 

He added a pinch of salt to the concoction-- just because he was a salty ass-- and then another of ground rose petals. There was a spark, followed by a puff of smoke, and the liquid morphed from a dark red into a light pink. Yuri’s nose twitched at the sweet smell, but conceded it a job well done. 

Yuri spooned the mixture into a bottle, corked it and then labeled it with the name of his client, _Mila._ Yuri frowned. It wasn’t that his magic didn’t work, but that she kept using it on men, when she _should_ be using it on women instead. Specifically one woman. 

She brushed off his words though, always telling him that she paid for his power in a bottle, not relationship advice, because what did he know? She wasn’t wrong; what _did_ he know? Nothing really, because Yuri was a man who willfully lived in pitiful loneliness, selling love to others because he couldn’t bear to settle down on his own. 

Yuri told himself that it was because there weren’t any good options. 

And then Otabek Altin walked through his shop door, and Yuri is reminded that that isn’t remotely the case. There was an incredibly good option, dark haired and handsome. With wide shoulders that Yuri itched to run his hands along; a slim waist that he wanted to press against a table. 

Otabek Altin, the ultimate distraction and definitely not interested. 

“Ho there, Yura,” Otabek said, shifting the box he held across his hip slightly. “I have your delivery.” Like plenty of witches around, Yuri didn’t have the time to procure his own ingredients, so he ordered them instead. Otabek was a regular fixture in his shop with deliveries of once, sometimes twice a day. It had only been chance that they had become good friends over the years.

“Counter,” Yuri said, waving toward a work table. It was covered in random half-finished spells and knick-knacks. “Just scoot everything to the side.”

Otabek did so, dropping the box onto the old hardwood. “I couldn’t find everything on your work order, but I’ll trek deeper tomorrow. Still, I managed to find your wormroot, so you shouldn’t be too much out of luck.” 

Yuri hummed at that, before setting Mila’s potion onto the shelf for pick-up. Otabek leaned against the worktable, arms crossed over his chest. “The red haired woman again?”

“She really should just listen to me,” Yuri said with a sigh. “Sara comes in here for a spell every week. I’m tired of having to pretend to brush Mila’s hair back, just to pluck a few strands for it.”

“Has Sara considered just… telling the woman that she loves her?” Otabek asked. 

Yuri sighed again, rubbing at his brow tiredly. “I never said that she listened to me either. Honestly, they are a hopeless pair.”

Otabek was quiet for a long moment, before he said, “Hopeless or not, love is a tricky thing. Sometimes its easier to wish and hope, than to take action.”

Yuri cracked open an eye to look at him, surprised by his subtle words of wisdom. Otabek was a quiet kind of man, who didn’t often share bits of himself with others. Yuri was one of the rare few, and he’d even gained a nickname from the man. _Yura._

“What about you, Otabek?” Yuri asked, lips twisting into a devilish smile. “Speaking from experience?”

“No,” Otabek said. “My approach is just different.”

“How so?”

Otabek rubbed at his chin. “I prefer to watch from afar, and I’m content with that.”

“That sounds boring,” Yuri said, but what he really meant, was that it sounded sad. Not that Yuri liked love or romance, or anything. He just made money off of it. 

He _definitely_ didn’t like the soft, sappy look that had fallen across Otabek’s face, when he reminisced about _whomever_ . Probably some busty woman with _legs up to here._ It was a phrase that Yuri had often heard and never quite grasped. 

“Help me put this stuff away,” Yuri finally said, changing the conversation. 

Because Yuri was a tall and gangly mess of limbs, Otabek was shorter by a good half a foot. Not that Yuri cared. Otabek radiated more masculine energy than even the blacksmith who lived around the corner. Yuri leaned over him slightly, setting jars on bookshelves high over Otabek’s head. 

Yuri actually relished these small little moments, because they were the closest that he would ever allow himself within Otabek’s orbit. The subtle brushing of their shoulders, the gentle nudges to the side. Sometimes Yuri would linger, and sometimes he wouldn’t. 

Otabek was always indifferent, but that eased it somehow. 

It was an effortless friendship with casual closeness, and even if Yuri’s heart sometimes beat a little faster, or sometimes it ached; it worked for them. 

It worked for them, and Yuri would tell himself that it was enough. 

#

The truth about love spells is that they only work if the witch who brewed them had known love. 

The stronger that love, the stronger the spell. The reason for it was simple: When a witch made a spell, it was made with a part of themselves. This was why spells could be costly.

Spells didn’t always have the desired effect, and love spells were the trickiest of all. Sara and Mila were a frustrating pair, because Mila focused her efforts on men that she would never love. Sara was patient, may the Gods bless her, and she felt it was worth the wait. Even if she still bought a weekly spell to help things along.

Honestly, lovesick people made the _worst_ kind of clients. They exhausted him.

Yuri’s love spells were wide and well-known for their potency when they worked, and that was something he took great pride in. When younger, he’d infused his work with his love for his grandfather, and now--

Well, it wasn’t a secret that he loved Otabek, not to himself at least. The least he could do was nurture that love, even if quietly, and let it help others. It was a useful outlet, because hotheads like Yuri didn’t like to waste their days away, thinking of low voices and hair so soft, that it felt like brushed silk. 

Yuri still maintained that he wasn’t the romantic sort. You could be in love and not stoop to the level of his silvery-haired neighbor, and his pig-faced lover. Or husband. Really, whatever they were. Soft and sappy words, and stolen kisses, and quiet dances under the full moon when they thought no one was looking.

He definitely wasn’t jealous, not one bit. 

Yuri was about to stopper a spell, when Otabek walked into his shop unexpectedly. There wasn’t a box across his hip for delivery, and he didn’t have a basket of his sister’s food. Yuri liked Maya, even if she insisted that he was too skinny, constantly worried that he’d lost himself in the day’s work. 

It annoyed him more that she wasn’t always wrong. 

Yuri paused and blinked at him. “Beka,” he said, “What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, Yura,” he said, but then he hesitated. 

That caused Yuri to narrow his eyes slightly. Otabek wasn’t the kind of man to hesitate, or even look unsure of himself, but he stood there in the entrance to his small shop, shifting back and forth on his feet like he was about to bolt and--

Well, it was weird.

“Is everything alright?” Yuri asked him, lips tugged into a small little frown.

“I wanted to ask…” Otabek thumbed along his jaw, something that he did when he was a little bit nervous. “The Solstice is a week from now,” he finally said.

“That isn’t news. Your point?”

“Are you celebrating with anyone?” Otabek asked quietly. 

“Who would I celebrate with? I usually do it alone and that suits me just fine.” Yuri paused. “Did Maya send you here? What, does she want me to come--”

 _“I_ want to celebrate with you.” 

Yuri blinked, head cocked to the side. _“What?”_ Then he realized how annoyed and indelicate that sounded, because it was Otabek. His best and only friend; they do things with each other often. The idea of celebrating the Solstice together wasn’t such an unusual idea. 

“Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that,” Yuri said, when Otabek looked like he was about bolt right back out the front door. “You just caught me at a weird time.” He waved the bottle in his hand around. 

“Another love spell?”

“Ugh, what else?” He paused and then, “I’m wearing myself out on them. I should limit the amount that I do per week.”

Otabek looked at him for a long moment. “You want people to find their happiness. It’s admirable.”

“It’s dumb,” Yuri said. “I shouldn’t care. I should just want to make money.”

“But you do care, Yura,” Otabek said. “And that’s what makes you the best of the best.”

Yuri rubbed at his neck tiredly. “Look, let me cork this up, and we’ll go to your sister’s for dinner, and well make plans for the weekend, okay?”

Otabek didn’t usually smile, but there was the tiniest quirk of his lips. Good. “Alright.”

Yuri returned the look and moved to stand from his stool. He grabbed the cork and began to seal the bottle, but as he was moving, he tripped over his own feet. Yuri stumbled and lost grip of the bottle which tipped over, splattering the potion all over Otabek and--

_All over Otabek._

“Shit,” Yuri murmured. “Shit, shit shit.” 

There were tons of types of love spells, but this particular brew was in his opinion, the nastiest kind. It sparked interest between the first person the target saw, and Yuri charged people literally a year’s worth of wages to even _think_ about making it. 

He couldn’t let Otabek fall victim to such a dumb and terrible thing. He cursed, knocked things out of the way, tried to think of a counter spell. He was working on borrowed time. It would only take a few moments for it to kick in, and even then, the spell could be reversed. It was just considerably harder. 

“Yura,” Otabek said, letting out a long breath as he shook liquid off of his hand. His clothing was drenched, he should really get out of those--

“Otabek, you need to strip. Get out of those clothes right now.” Otabek didn’t move though, which caused Yuri to snap his gaze back to him. “Beka, I’m serious. That’s a nasty love spell. Out of your clothing, I don’t care what I see. A few more minutes and you’ll be all over me, and I think that you’d hate that and--” 

“Yura,” Otabek said again, this time quieter. “I don’t think it’ll work on me.”

Yuri’s mouth snapped shut as he paused in his desperate search. When he looked back to Otabek, he still stood there, shaking his hands out and mildly annoyed that he was wet, but otherwise unaffected. 

Which made no sense. Otabek should be all doe-eyed and dopey faced, wanting to please him, wanting to give Yuri his every whim. But he wasn’t, which could only mean--

Yuri swallowed thickly at the thought that maybe his feelings weren’t so one-sided after all. The only reason that this kind of love spell wouldn’t work, was if the target was already in love with the caster.

Otabek’s mother was a witch, so he would likely know that. 

Yuri stood straight. “Right,” he said. “Okay, um, a shirt then. We should still get you out of those wet clothes, even though I’m not sure that I have anything that will fit you--” 

“Yura,” Otabek said, reaching out to grasp Yuri’s wrist gently. 

“Beka, I didn’t--”

“When we spoke a few weeks back, it made me do some thinking. I was content with watching, but I’ve always wanted more than that,” Otabek said. “Do you understand?”

“I’m not dumb Beka,” Yuri said, “and I get why it’s not--” He huffed angrily, waving between them. “Look, are you going to say it or what?”

Otabek hesitated. “Do you want me to?”

 _“Do I--?”_ Yuri let out a sort of strangled, flabbergasted sound. “The only reason that my spells work so well, is because I’ve been teetering on this edge of something that I’ve never quite grasped, except that I know exactly what it is, and Gods above Otabek, just--”

Otabek kissed him. Yuri sort of fell against him, grabbing his shoulders to steady himself, opened his mouth to slot their lips at a better angle. And shit, if this is was kissing was like, then Yuri had been the dumb one avoiding it, because there wasn’t anything quite like the feeling of Otabek pressed against him, hand holding his chin gently, guiding him through it. 

When they broke apart, Yuri breathed out a curse and Otabek laughed. 

“The spell won’t work because--”

“Beka, I fucking swear--”

“--I already love you, Yura.” 

Otabek smiled at him, a sort of insufferable, sappy, long-wanted and long-awaited thing, and Yuri hated how quickly he pulled the man back to him. Yuri leaned over him, hands on Otabek’s cheeks as he kissed him again, shorter and sweeter this time. 

“You’re dumb,” Yuri said, when he pulled back. “How long?”

“Does it matter?” Otabek asked him. He smelled like rose petals and turmeric, and other things that Yuri had thrown into the spell. “And like you’re one to talk.”

“No, this isn’t about me,” Yuri said. 

Otabek scoffed. “Yuri, you’ve been throwing your love into those spells for years. Everyone knows it, even my sister. And when she notices things, that’s when you _know_ it’s bad.”

Yuri sighed. “So, the Summer Solstice,” he said, derailing the conversation from anything but _that._

“I want to spend it with you,” Otabek said. 

“You _do_ know that the stories of witches dancing naked under the moon are vastly exaggerated, right?”

“Hm, yes.” Otabek smoothed his hand down Yuri’s sleeve. “Does that change anything?”

“No.” Yuri didn’t even have to think about the word, it just immediately came. Effortless and easy, just like their friendship. Just like their love. 

“I mean it, you know,” Otabek said. “When I say that I love you.” 

Yuri finally looked at his face, Otabek’s dark eyes wide and open. Shit, he looked good-- he always looked good-- but this was different. Yuri loved the way that he was baring himself unabashedly. Yuri wasn’t good at that, he probably wouldn’t ever be. 

“Did you come here to tell me that?”

“No,” Otabek said. “I came here to ask you on a date. There’s usually an order to things like this.”

Yuri reached up to thread his fingers through Otabek’s hair. It was soft but coarse, curling slightly as it hung over his forehead. 

“It goes without saying, that I love you too. I think that’s obvious.”

“It always has been, Yura,” Otabek said. “But that’s why your spells have always been the best.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Have questions? A burning need for answers? Have a story idea? Just want to talk Otayuri? Don't forget to check out my [Tumblr](https://missmarquin.tumblr.com/), and drop an ask! 
> 
> Also, follow me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/HornyBaldFossil)


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